


A Total Precursor

by newredshoes



Category: RPF - Thor (2011)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Humor, LSD, antics, drugged by mistake
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-31
Updated: 2011-05-31
Packaged: 2017-10-19 23:45:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/206504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/newredshoes/pseuds/newredshoes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>None of this would have happened if Natalie hadn't given Tom the <em>Beauty and the Beast</em> glass.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Total Precursor

**Author's Note:**

> I... this is just really inexecusable. Thanks to [](http://bloodygoodgirl.livejournal.com/profile)[**bloodygoodgirl**](http://bloodygoodgirl.livejournal.com/) for egging/cheering me on. None of these real people belong to me, and I don't think this really happened. Just giggling inappropriately and hiding behind my hands.

Shit, Kat didn't know it was going to turn out like that. Tom was a big guy, he totally should have handled it better. Anyway, it was an accident in the first place, and accidents happen all the time, and fuck, it all kind of turned out okay in the end, so, yeah, what was the problem?

*

So this was Saturday night, right? Getting together at Natalie's place was, like, normal. It was just a handful of them, although Chris said he'd be by later. Tom was super punctual and couldn't stop talking about this Old West store he'd found in town. He'd even bought this ridiculous black rodeo shirt with red roses embroidered around the shoulders.

"Dude," said Kat when she stopped paying attention, "we've been here for like, a month now."

"Give the man some credit," said Jaimie. "Guy barely gets to go off set. Let him have his excitement!" She poked him in the stomach with a toe. Kat was pretty sure they were, like, a week away from banging. She had a good instinct for this. Letting someone else keep their feet on your lap is a total precursor to banging.

Tom pointed with his empty. "Right, exactly. And when is your call?"

"10 AM," Kat said proudly. She slouched back in the couch and took a long drag off her smoke. Jaimie snorted.

"Anyone want anything?" Natalie called from the fridge.

Tom started to stand up, but Jaimie kicked him. "I'd love some water," he said instead, giving Jaimie those "fuck you fuck me" eyes. Jaimie totally gave him that "come and get it, bitch" face, and he started tickling behind her knees. Jaimie shrieked and swatted him with a rolled-up _Scientific American._ Kat upgraded them to banging pretty much tonight.

Natalie came back with a vegan beer for herself and a glass for Tom. It was an old Burger King tumbler with Belle and Beast dancing on it. Kat had found it back in L.A. during the table reads, and had written "SIZE DIFFERENTIAL" in Sharpie along the top. She liked that glass. It was kind of slutty in the best way possible. Natalie liked giving it out. In fact, they'd tried to get Stellan to pose with it last time they all hung out, but he'd stuck with this flask of nasty-smelling Scandinavian stuff. That old Swedish dude could hold his shit together. He was pretty cool, Burger King glass-hating ways aside.

"I think that's fitting," she announced, as Tom drank his Land of Enchantment tap water. He did that thing where his eyebrows moved totally independently of one another. The effect was way cartoony now that his hair was all black. Kat smiled. "There's this quiz you can take on some Disney DVDs, and it tells you which Disney princess you are. If you're like, into reading at all, it gives you Belle."

Tom rotated the thing in his hands. "And you think I'm like Belle?"

"Are you kidding? Totally."

Tom pointed to Kat's annotation. "I thought that was supposed to be Natalie."

She pursed her lips. "Well _that_ is definitely Chris."

"Have we ever braided his hair?" Natalie twisted in her seat. She had been already a little high when they'd arrived. Kat could never stop laughing when Natalie said she was quitting pot. "He could totally have one of those little fairy tale prince braids. And ribbons."

Jaimie snorted again. "We called those rattails when I was growing up." Tom drained about half the water in the glass and propped his elbow up on her knee. Then Kat found herself humming "Tale as Old as Time," and she started imagining Tom and Jaimie trying to get out of their freaking involved costumes so they could just bone each other already. Only sheer sexual frustration was going to keep them going until they were undressed. She was glad she was a mere mortal with normal clothes in this one, shit.

Natalie looked around at them. "When is Chris getting here, does anybody know?"

"I think he said he was picking something up," said Kat. "Like, weird Australian beer or something."

"Do we have room for him?" Tom's focus was somewhere past Natalie's shoulder. He had a point: these digs were pretty cozy.

"He'll be fine," Natalie said. "He's happy anywhere. He can sit on the floor."

Tom was frowning. He set the glass down very precisely on the side table. "Excuse me," he said, not looking at any of them, and lifted Jaimie's legs off him. She dropped her feet right in the chair and stretched, like, right into Kat's nose. Kat shoved her arms away.

"Hey bitch, personal self space!"

Jaimie, like a super-fit freak, pushed herself up with just, like, her abs or something and hugged Kat from underneath. They wrestled it out, which was pretty much a mistake, and Kat eventually fought her way off the couch and into Tom's seat. The dent from his ass wasn't much bigger than hers. She propped her feet up on the coffee table. "I don't think he gets this back," she said, after a thorough assessment of her own comfort.

"Aren't you, like, a foot smaller than him?" Natalie asked as one who knew.

Kat shrugged. "He's all British and polite, he won't care." She settled in more expansively, and picked up the Belle and Beast glass to fiddle with it. She peered inside, since those decal things or whatever they used on those glasses always looked neat from the other side.

So yeah, then Kat saw the tiny square of wet paper clinging to the back of Belle's head. And she remembered trying to convince Stellan that they should totally get high together, but then he was all "Acid is a young man's trip, I'm bored with it" and wouldn't get off his damn flask, and they put the glass away without really washing it or anything. And then she remembered that Tom didn't even smoke, in addition to all the other stuff he didn't do that wasn't, like, coffee or Guinness.

"Shit," she said, and heaved Jaimie's legs off her knees.

"Hey!"

"I'll be right back," said Kat uncertainly, and she headed toward Natalie's bathroom.

Tom had shut the door but he hadn't locked it or anything. Still, Kat was definitely a foot shorter than him, and anyway he and the rest of the Asgardians did all that fight training together every morning. It paid to be not stupid about these things. She knocked. "Tom?"

"Leave me alone!"

Oh yeah, he was freaking out.

"Hey Tom, you want any help or anything?"

No answer.

"Tom." She leaned against the door frame. "Tom, I think you may have dropped some acid by mistake. It's okay, it's no big."

He flung the door open from the inside, and whoa, total comic book villain moment, because he freaking filled the frame. "It's not okay!" he hissed. Shit, his eyes were huge. He grabbed her sleeve, and she kind of yelped as he yanked her inside. He started staring at the mirror, which is what Kat guessed he'd been doing for the couple of minutes he'd been gone. "Tell me what's in the mirror," he whispered in a total actor-whisper.

"Everything okay in there?" Natalie called.

"Fine!" Kat shouted back. Tom leaned over her shoulder, fingering his hair.

"I've changed color," he said, more fascinated than freaked out now.

"Yeah, it's called Clairol and chemical straightener. It's still you."

"No," he mumbled. "No no no, look." He stretched out both hands, and seriously, Kat should sympathize, but they were nice arms, and Tom was having a total _Face/Off_ moment, and it was not that easy to play along.

"What am I looking at?" she said, trying.

"I don't know what that color is!" he breathed. Then: "I'm turning blue."

"The CGI guys will be really pissed if you do that," she pointed out. Tom dropped his arms back to his sides and stared at her. She shrugged. "They need the work."

He blinked. "Of course," he said after a moment. "Of course, of course." His reflection caught his attention again, and he froze. "It's moving without me. I'm not doing that."

"Okay, away from the shiny thing. Let's get you out of here." Kat braced herself against the bathtub and pushed. Tom stumbled but was actually pretty compliant.

"I'm still turning blue," he said on his way out the door.

"That should look great with your rodeo clown shirt." Shit, had he forgotten how his legs worked too?

He poked at the roses on his shoulders. "I've realized something."

Kat steered him around the corner. "What's that?"

They made it back to the living room. "My parents stole me from Jotunheim," he concluded, still wide-eyed.

"Fucking stop that, okay? Jesus." Kat sighed and held onto his arm. Jaimie and Natalie stopped talking and were all like, what is going on? Kat threw up both her hands. "He had acid in his water glass!" Jaimie gaped. Natalie clapped both hands to her mouth. Kat pointed. "Yeah, now you're sorry for not doing your fucking dishes more often."

Jaimie stood up. "Tom, are you okay?" He stared forlornly back at her. Maybe she'd turned into a dinosaur or something for him. Jesus, how was this his first time? Kat socked him in the arm.

"What kind of actor are you, anyway? Do they not have drugs at Cambridge?"

"Hey hey hey hey." Natalie got up and took Kat's flailing hand. "Let's just keep him calm and make him feel safe. Tom?" She smiled at him; he just watched her, totally wary. Kat now knew what someone confronted with an adorable velociraptor looked like. "Why don't you sit down? Hey Jaimie, make some room."

Jaimie scooted over, and they maneuvered Tom onto the couch. He dropped onto the cushions very close to Jaimie, who, God love her, was starting to crack up a little. She put a hand on his shoulder. "How you doing, buddy?"

Tom turned his head, very slowly, until he and she were nose to nose. He gulped. "You smell like pearls," he said. "And... Carthage."

Jaimie pressed her lips together. "...Thank you?"

"You're most welcome." His Adam's apple did some weird dancey shit in his throat, and then he put his gigantor hands on his knees and wouldn't make eye contact with any of them for twenty straight minutes. Natalie puffed out her cheeks for a moment, then exhaled and swung her arms around a little.

"Well, let's put on some music, I guess."

"If you do Pink Floyd, I'm punching you in the spleen," said Kat, who really kind of just wanted another cigarette at this point.

Jaimie made a face. "You've got a pretty laissez-faire approach to all this, don't you."

Natalie just plucked the offending Belle and Beast cup off the table and headed back for the kitchen.

"Fuckballs," Kat sighed, and slumped down into another seat. Jaimie was totally giving her the stinkeye. "What? This was not my fault, okay? I'm the good guy here!"

"Still turning blue," Tom mumbled, still avoiding eye contact. Jaimie reached over and patted him on the cheek.

Okay, neither of them could help it. Jaimie and Kat kind of had to giggle.

*

It turned out Tom was actually okay when left to his own devices. Jaimie and Kat had a really good conversation about old-school sci-fi and made a lot of fun of and with Natalie, while Tom kept one cheek pressed to the arm of the couch and stared at the TV set. Natalie texted Chris a couple times to see where the fuck he was, until Kat remembered that he was, like, having dinner with Ken to talk about something or whatever, and that was a total phone-verboten zone. Then Tom informed them again that his parents had stolen him from Jotunheim, even while understanding that he was not, in fact, Loki, but still, he'd been stolen from the frost giants all the same. Then Jaimie started singing "They're Taking the Hobbits to Isengard," which was pretty brilliant, Kat thought, except it kind got Tom's actor-brain going.

He rolled over onto his back, which meant he was hanging off both ends of the couch, and Jaimie almost got a mouthful of his knees. "I have assailed her with music," he sighed, "but she vouchsafes no notice."

Jaimie looked at him. "What was that?"

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "I don't think I'm supposed to be here."

"On this plane of existence or on my couch?" Natalie asked around a cheekful of baby carrots.

Kat totally was with her on this one. "Yeah, you kind of couldn't decide last time you mentioned it."

Tom sat up. "I need your balcony. Might I use your balcony?"

Natalie held him back. "Not without adult supervision."

"Naturally." He nodded, totally English and earnest. "I'm quite untrustworthy right now."

Jaimie stood up. "I'll go." She pressed her fist to her chest and didn't really succeed in not cracking up. "I will take this terrible task upon me."

"That's a terrible idea!" Kat blurted out. Everyone looked at her. That was always weird. "What? I'm just concerned." Come on, she only had their best interests at heart. They still should be banging, but not while Tom doubts the integrity of the color spectrum. Everyone here knew their Shakespeare: balconies are a total precursor to banging.

"The fresh air will do him good." Jaimie hauled him onto his feet. "C'mon, buddy, I'm adult supervision."

It didn't look like there was much to be done. Jaimie was like, a million times stronger than either of them, and Tom pretty much beamed like a neon sign. "Do you know how many Latin words you just used?"

Jaimie shoved him toward the kitchen. As soon as they were gone, Natalie sank down into her chair, clutching her forehead. "God, I can't believe I let this happen."

"Shit, man, it's okay." Kat, who was never the voice of moderation, tried to look reassuring. It wasn't a natural look for her. "Seriously, it could happen to anyone."

"Yeah, but…" She looked hideously embarrassed. "You know, I'm just glad he's taking it so well. I'm not even that into acid. I don't know what I was even thinking."

"Then let this be a lesson to you, young lady." Kat did her dad's stern finger-shaking voice. "Always know your limits."

She laughed. "I just hope he's still speaking to all of us in the morning."

"Us? Who's this us? You gave him the glass, missy pie."

"Missy pie?"

"Your parents never called you missy pie? You're a freak." Kat got a pillow to the face for her troubles. Jaimie walked in on them lobbing more pillows and shit at each other.

"You know, this is why no one ever takes you two out in public," she said from inside the fridge. Kat was sitting on Natalie at this point, but when Kat pointed out that Jaimie was stealing two bottles of Natalie's hilari-delicious extra-vegan cider, Natalie totally grabbed a neck rest thing for Kat to peg Jaimie with. Kat was never prouder than when Jaimie shrieked and kind of but not entirely dodged her squishy missile. This was teamwork at its finest. The balcony door slid open and shut again, and then Jaimie said, "Tom?"

The second time she said his name, Natalie squirmed out from under Kat and bucked her flat on her ass. Kat grunted, glared, then hustled after her out onto the balcony. It was just the three of them. Jaimie held a bottle in each hand, totally dumbfounded. "He was here a second ago."

Because Kat had a fine appreciation for worst-case scenarios, she leaned over the railing. Tom's rose-bedecked shoulders vanished behind a fake adobe wall. All of them stared. Jaimie set the bottles down with a _clank._ "Did he just fucking scale the balcony?"

Shit.

"Shit," said Natalie. "We've activated him."

"Go!" Jaimie barked. "Let's head him off!"

Look, she said it really convincingly, and actors like having a script, okay? Seriously, just remember that it sounded like a reasonable proposition at the time.

*

Here's the thing about movies. Movies are fucking liars. They always make chase scenes so fucking competent. Nobody ever has to stop and wheeze for fifty seconds (Kat) or get lost in the stairwells (Natalie) or trip on a pair of discarded shoes (Jaimie) because the target has decided that footwear is interfering with his connection to the great cosmic truths. You know who gets chase scenes right? The Keystone Kops. Those silent film fuckers were right on the money.

"Do you even see him?" Natalie asked from on top of the fourth or fifth set of stairs they'd hauled ass up to look out over the building complex.

"No," said Jaimie. "But I think he's still pretty close."

Kat really just wanted a cigarette again. "If that's him show-tunesing 'Wonderwall,' we may be in luck." The other two looked at her. "What, don't you hear that?" Because somewhere off to the left, Tom was crooning Oasis hits like Bobby Darin, and she hated him for how well that worked.

"Why can't we catch him?" Natalie knitted her brow. "I can't even believe this is happening."

"Don't sweat it," Jaimie said flatly. "You couldn't have known that giving him drugs would make his brain Hulk out."

"I didn't mean to!"

"It's still your fault he's a supervillain now."

"Oh, fuck this with a spoon," Kat hissed, and dug out her cell phone like she should have back when Tom first evaded capture. She punched his number and listened. The big band rendition of "Wonderwall" stopped.

"Hello?" he called out.

"Pick up the phone, dumbo," Kat hissed.

Tom emerged from behind a corner. He was balancing rather elegantly on a divider wall, looking up at the sky. The tinny strains of a standard issue Nokia ringtone issued from his jeans pocket.

Natalie's jaw dropped. "How did he get there?"

Tom kept wall-walking, all long lines and precision footwork. It was practically Olympic. "Is someone talking to me?" he said, turning slowly and still fucking keeping his balance.

Kat opened her mouth to yell back.

"Tom? What're you doing up there?"

Natalie threw her hands up. "Finally!"

There was Chris, striding across the parking lot, a case of beer in one fucking hand. He was smiling his jolliest bro smile, like a six-foot-plus genius in an embroidered cowboy shirt on a wall was an everyday reality where he came from. Thankfully, Tom stayed put. In fact, he beamed and, like the bendy yoga nut he was, bent at the waist to have a conversation.

"We should go get him." Jaimie nudged Kat and Natalie. "Come on, we've got him!"

Kat flipped her phone shut and hustled after the other two. Thank fuck stairs were easy to go down. She kept glancing out at the wall, just to be sure, you know, nothing stupid happened. Chris and Tom seemed to be having a grand old talk. "That fucker," she grunted. "He is never living this down."

The next moment she looked up, naturally Tom had vanished again.

Kat skidded to a stop. "Holy shit!"

Natalie bolted for the front gate. Jaimie started mumbling "Ohmygod, insurance!" over and over again. Kat took the rest of the stairs two at a time. All of them were probably thinking about how to tell Ken that one of his leads had broken all his major bones and why, and then how to commit seppuku right after.

Chris was standing at the gate when Natalie wrenched it open. The beer was in one hand. Tom was slung over one shoulder. Chris smiled at them. "Someone want to buzz me in?"

Jaimie peered through the bars. "Is he okay?"

"He's fine! Just took a little tumble, didn't you, Tom?"

"The family is a wheel," Tom announced from behind Chris's shoulder, and waved.

Chris strolled into the courtyard, nonplussed as ever. "Thank you," said Natalie, kind of in shock still. "He scaled my balcony and wouldn't come back."

"I'm not Belle," Tom muttered, kicking his feet a little.

Chris cocked an eyebrow. "Any chance there's an explanation for all this?"

"Not a good one." Jaimie circled back and shut the gate. Tom bit his lip and reached for her shoulder. She looked down at his hand and then back at him.

"Carthage," he said seriously. "And pearls."

Okay, Kat had to laugh at that. Mentally, she was already basking in the glow of a vicarious cigarette. The guy had it kind of right. Elaborate chase capers: total precursor to banging.

**Author's Note:**

> Seriously, I'm so sorry. I couldn't help it. I was compelled. To be fair, I kind of blame [Natalie Portman](http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2011/04/06/your-highness-star-natalie-portman-marijuana_n_845598.html) too.
> 
> Everything I know about LSD I learned from Walter Bishop.


End file.
